My Brother's Secret (25 page)

A CHANGE OF PLAN

T
here were roof tiles littered about the pavement, dislodged by the bombing, but it was the flames that everyone was watching.

An orange halo had risen over the rooftops, flickering and crackling as the fires burned the buildings just a few streets away. The stink of it was thick in the air and sparks rose into the sky, dancing in the breeze like the last fizz of fireworks. The shape of the church tower rose among them, lighting up and then darkening again before glowing once more as the stone reflected the light from the blaze.

It was almost impossible to believe it was happening.
Right here in town, buildings were bombed and burning. Probably people dead or trapped in their cellars.

‘We were lucky,’ Lisa said. ‘Just think, we might have been …’ her words trailed away and I turned to look at her.

The glow from the fires sparkled in her eyes. She had never looked so pretty.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.

‘Yes it is,’ I replied, because it
was
. It was beautiful and terrible at the same time. The flares and searchlights and embers and flames came together in the night in a magical display, but beneath it all was the horror of what it really was.

‘We were so lucky,’ she said again and I felt her fingers touch mine.

I glanced down at Lisa’s hand, seeing how it waited for me to hold it in my own, so I took it and looked at her, our eyes meeting for the briefest moment before we turned our faces to the rooftops and the display that shimmered over them.

In those seconds it felt as if we were alone in the street, just Lisa and me, then I heard Opa’s voice close by.

‘Is that Feldstrasse?’ he said to no one in particular. ‘That looks like it might be Feldstrasse.’

With that, it was as if Lisa and I remembered where we were and we released each other’s hand as if it had suddenly grown hot.

‘Maybe they need help,’ suggested a voice, and I turned to see Herr Ackerman, the butcher, standing close by. ‘We should go over there.’ He looked at Opa, waiting
for an answer.

Opa nodded once. ‘You’re right.’

‘Can I come?’ I asked.

‘Of course not,’ Mama said. ‘It’ll be too dangerous.’

‘I’ll stay out of the way.’

‘You’re not going anywhere. And
you
shouldn’t be going either.’ Mama looked at Opa.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘That I’m too old.’

‘No, Papa, it’s just—’

‘Well, the young men aren’t here, are they?’ he said, standing straight. ‘Too busy fighting. So the old ones will have to be good enough. And I’ll never be too old to help.’

‘I’ll come.’ One of the other older men stepped up beside him, and soon there was something of a hubbub as the men of Escherstrasse came forward, one by one, until there was quite a crowd of them standing in a group in the middle of the street. The women drifted together, forming another group, offering advice to the men as they began to organise themselves. There were a few children there, too, but their mothers kept them close.

The men agreed to bring buckets and tools, anything that might be needed to rescue survivors, then they hurried back to their houses to collect what they needed before setting out towards the flames.

‘Are we still going to do it?’ Lisa whispered. ‘Our plan?’

‘How can we? It’s too late now.’

‘No it’s not,’ she said. ‘It’s only just after midnight. There’s still plenty of time for everyone to get back to bed.’

I looked round at all the people, and at the men making their way down the street. ‘They could be out all night,’ I said.

‘Don’t worry about them,’ she nodded towards the group of men. ‘It’ll be the perfect time.’

‘But there’ll be people everywhere and—’

‘—and they’ll all be too busy to bother with us.’

It was a good point. With everything that was happening, who would even notice the two of us slipping past in the shadows?

‘All right,’ I said. ‘What time?’

‘Two o’clock. And don’t fall asleep.’

‘Two o’clock.’ I agreed

‘Did you get some?’ she asked, and I knew exactly what she meant.

‘Not yet. But I will.’

‘You better,’ she said. ‘It’s no good without it.’

Once the men had disappeared from sight, the women stayed in the street for a while longer, gossiping and tutting and shaking their heads before everything quietened down and they began to drift back to their homes.

‘I’ll see you later,’ I whispered to Lisa when Mama called me inside. ‘Two o’clock.’

I went back into the house and Mama closed the door behind me. I was on my way upstairs when I stopped. ‘I forgot my torch. Left it in the cellar.’

‘You don’t need it tonight,’ Mama said.

‘I like to have it,’ I told her. ‘Just in case.’

‘Just in case what?’

I shrugged.

‘All right, go on then. Be quick.’

As I went back downstairs, I put my hand into my pocket and held on to my torch to stop it from banging about and giving me away. I went straight to the cupboard under the stairs and pulled the door open before lifting the trapdoor to the cellar.

I braced myself and reached under the lip of the hatch to find the light switch.

Climbing down the steps, I could just about see the wonky shelf at the far end of the cellar. And there, right in the middle of it, was what I had come for.

A tin of white paint.

HELL

S
tefan’s key was in the drawer in our room, exactly where I expected it to be. The torchlight picked it out, nestled among the other bits and pieces, and I wasted no time pocketing it. I grabbed my bag that now had the tin of white paint stuffed into it, and crossed to the bedroom door, pausing to listen to the murmur of voices from downstairs.

Opa hadn’t yet returned from helping with the aftermath of the bombing raid, so Oma and Mama were still in the kitchen, waiting up for him, making it almost impossible for me to sneak out of the house. But then I’d hit on an idea. I could climb through a window, and use Stefan’s key to let myself back in through the front door later.

The landing between the bedrooms was small enough to cross in a few carefully chosen steps and I managed it without even the slightest squeak of floorboards. Within a few seconds I was pushing open Oma and Opa’s bedroom door.

Not wanting to trip over anything, I clicked on the torch and crept across to the window. They always slept with it open, even when it was cold outside.

I peeled back the blackout curtain, and opened the window a little wider so there was just enough of a gap for me to climb down onto the shelter Opa had built to protect his precious car. The construction felt weak as soon as I put my feet on it. It groaned under my weight and I was sure I had to get off quickly or else it would collapse under me.

I went down on all fours and scrambled to the edge, lowering my bag before jumping down onto the grass with a soft thump. Bending my knees as soon as I landed, I rolled onto my shoulder, just how we’d been taught to do when we were training with the
Deutsches Jungvolk
. Then I was on my feet. I snatched up my bag and jogged across the garden and out into the lane where the darkness was thick and the walls loomed over me. There was only the faintest glow from the fires on Feldstrasse now, and the occasional voice shouting in the distance, but otherwise, it was as if no one else existed.

I swallowed hard and felt the blood thumping in my ears as I hurried along the lane.

‘You ready?’ Lisa was waiting at the mouth of the alley, crouching in the shadow of the house next door to Oma
and Opa’s.

‘Wasn’t easy getting out,’ I said. ‘Opa’s still not home. And I don’t know how I’ll get back in without them seeing.’

‘We’ll think of something,’ Lisa said. ‘Come on.’

Running along Escherstrasse, my mind prickled with excitement and apprehension. We were taking a big risk, and if we were caught, we would be in a lot of trouble, but this wasn’t like the last time I came out in the night. This time I was with Lisa, and even though there were only two of us, we were Edelweiss Pirates and we were going to make our mark.

Closer to the end of the street, the sounds from the area around Feldstrasse grew louder. The searchlights were off, the sirens and the eighty-eights were silent and the fiery glow over the rooftops had dulled, but men’s voices travelled on the cool night breeze. There was a smell of burning, too.

‘Let’s go and look.’ Lisa grabbed my sleeve and pulled me with her. ‘I want to see.’

We kept to the darkest shadows wherever we could, skulking along the streets as the voices grew louder and louder, but now there were other sounds too. The crackle and snap of fires, the pop of wood under intense heat, a child crying, a woman wailing.

As we approached the end of a road that met Feldstrasse, the voices became more agitated and I heard someone shout, ‘Over here! There’s one here!’

‘Let’s see what it is,’ Lisa tugged my sleeve again and we hurried along the pavement.

That’s when we saw the first of the bomb damage.

The corner house must have taken a direct hit, because one side of it was completely gone. There were bricks and timber strewn across the road. Some of the wood was still smouldering, red patches glowing in the night. The smell of burning was strong.

Up close, it looked as though something had bitten a chunk out of the house. Only a small part of the roof remained intact, tiles hanging down into the exposed rooms below. There was a bed teetering on the edge of what was left of a bedroom, and the room beneath was filled with rubble, but I could see traces of the owner’s belongings. A lamp sticking out from a pile of broken bricks. An armchair turned on its side. A table leg.

Beside me, Lisa had stopped to stare. ‘Do you think there was anyone in there?’

I looked up at the house. ‘Probably.’

‘Do you think they’re dead?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, tearing my eyes away. ‘Come on, stay low.’

I pulled Lisa’s arm the way she had pulled mine, and we crept towards an overturned cart in the middle of the road. We crouched behind it, out of sight, and peered over.

Feldstrasse looked like hell.

At each end of the road, one or two of the houses remained intact, but nothing else had escaped the raid. It was hard to tell that there had even been any houses in the middle of the rows on either side of the street, because all that was left was a massive pile of rubble with metal bars
and wooden beams poking out at different angles. It was as if someone had dumped a lot of rubbish here and set fire to it. And where there had once been a road between the homes, there was now a huge crater with lazy tendrils of smoke drifting from its darkness.

At the far end of the street, a green fire engine was unable to get any closer to the houses. Firemen had pulled a hose as far as they could and were spraying water on the flames that flickered in the rubble. Other groups of firemen and civilians were dotted around the street, trying to rescue survivors buried in the wreckage. There were the men from Escherstrasse, clearing the mess by passing it along a human chain, and there were soldiers, army and SS, all scouring the twisted remains.

Close to us, one group had gathered around the debris near the crater. Some of them were on their hands and knees, while others waited behind them, issuing instructions.

‘They must have found something,’ Lisa said. ‘
Someone
?’

The men at the front began shifting broken beams and bricks, passing them back to others who formed a line and handed it from man to man until it could be thrown safely onto the road. Just the slightest wrong move and everything might collapse.

Nearby, a group of small, bewildered children sat in silence on sandbags watching the men work. A group of women stood with them, some of them holding steaming cups, some of them holding each other, sobbing while rescuers searched the ruins for any sign of more survivors.

Over to the right, a woman who was combing the wreckage stopped and raised her hand. ‘Over here!’ she called.

By the crater, the men rearranged themselves so that a group of them, led by a soldier in SS uniform, broke away and hurried to where the woman stood with her hand held high.